Page 17 of The Hitman’s Obsession

Roman must be twice my age. And from the way he fucked me, it’s clear he’s done it before. Other women have felt his enormous cock inside them. He must have been with tons of them to be that good at sex.

But should I really care? Do I even have a right to be jealous? After all, it’s not like I could have expected him to live life as a monk before he met me. He’s tall and gorgeous… He must have had countless women throwing themselves at him since forever.

Still, images of him on top of other women begin to haunt me.

I picture him naked, sweating, pounding them like he did me, and a pain wrenches my gut.

I whirl around, ready to say something, but Roman’s eyes pin me in place.

“Want a grilled cheese?”

My lips tremble. Did he really just ask me that?

“A grilled cheese?”

“That’s right,” he replies as he goes around the room, checking the windows. “I don’t keep much food here, but I make a killer grilled cheese.”

I don’t answer. I can’t. My mind is a blur as he turns and strides into the kitchen and goes to the fridge. All I can do is watch as he gets everything together. The cheese, the bread, a little bit of butter. It’s like he’s done this a thousand times.

“So this is what you do?” I ask. “Kidnap women and then make them grilled cheese?”

The look he gives me pushes me back on my heels. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He’s disgusted by my question. His eyes narrow as he slowly shakes his head.

“Annie, I don’t kidnap women. I don’t bring women here. No one has ever been here. Only you.”

That was stupid. But I don’t know what to say in a situation like this. Hell, I barely even know how to feel. I’m still processing the countless emotions whirling through me like a hailstorm.

“Right, you don’t kidnap women,” I reply. “You just kill them.”

Why am I doing this? I want this man. All I’m going to do is push him away.

But would he even let me do that?

“How many people have you killed, Roman?”

“I don’t have an exact number.” He shrugs. “More than you’d like.”

His response should bother me. But for some reason, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because I know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt me. I believe him now. I feel it in my bones, in my heart, in my soul. Roman would never intentionally put me in harm’s way.

Oh, the irony. The man sent to kill me is now my protector.

“And you don’t…have anyone?” I feel so stupid asking, but I can’t help myself. I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I have to be sure.

Roman brings his eyes to me. The wind bellows strongly outside. I hear tree branches clattering off the walls as he holds my gaze.

“I’ve never had anyone, Annie. The first woman I’ve ever truly wanted is you.”

Every emotion I’ve felt since I first saw Roman standing in my room instantly comes swirling violently up through my center. I crack like ice on a frozen lake. My lips tremble. My eyes start to sting. Oh, no. I’m going to cry. I can’t. Not now.

So I do the little trick I learned when I didn’t want to cry around my dad.

I clench my butt. Hard.

I learned it online. At first, I thought it was crazy, but then I tried it when Dad missed my seventeenth birthday, and it worked. It totally worked. It worked then, and it works now.

The toaster oven behind Roman dings. He goes over to it and takes out my grilled cheese.

It does look delicious.